162 Reasons to Smile
Sunday was an amazing day for sports. Federer 2.0 served up a heated victory over Nadal in Miami, the Warriors continued their playoff preamble with another swift victory, and most notably the Giants took to the diamond for the first time this season. Seeing Crawford, Belt, Posey, and Bum out there again while listening to the comforting commentary of Kruk and Kuipe was blissful. Until the bottom of the 9th, that is…but we’ll tackle that in a bit. Baseball is a fascinatingly wonderful sport, and one that has been quite an acquired taste for me. My fine wine of the sport’s world, early introduction to it was bitter. Then one day, it clicked. The beauty behind every pitch, every movement, the toughness, the everything. It is unlike any other sport out there, and refreshingly so.
First of all, the ease in going to a Giant’s game at AT&T park is just unbeatable. Drink a few beers on the train, walk a few blocks, get in the stadium, drink a few more, spend $1000 on a hot dog and garlic fries, and take the train home. Plus if you hop on Stubhub a couple hours before the game you can find a great seat for a great price. But even if you’re not going to see it live, watching baseball on the tube is something special. There’s no clock, so right off the bat you’re not mentally confined to a time limit. Then you get brought into a world of stoicism. These guys take getting hit by 90 mile-an-hour fastballs like bumping shoulders with someone at a concert — it doesn’t hurt, you’re just peeved at the other person for hitting you. And then there’s the chess match that goes on throughout the game. Managers playing games within games, and batters reading every subtle movement trying to capitalize on split-second training. It is an iceberg sport. Fairly simple on the surface, but monumentally complex underneath. I surely don’t understand everything that’s going on under that surface, but I can confidently say I comprehended the fact that the Giants on Sunday brought back every fan’s recurring nightmare from last year: blown saves.
Melancon came in on the tail end of a record-breaking performance by MadBum with half an inning to save. Within minutes, the game was going downhill faster than a Lindsey Vonn Olympic run and, unfortunately, no one was all that surprised. To point out the element of shock in an otherwise tragically routine situation, the man on the mound was our newly acquired closer who has the promise of no drama half-innings. However, playing devil’s advocate elucidates that points that it was his first game in a new uniform, on opening day, with a team that seems to carry a recent closing stigma. But we have one of the best managers in the business to iron out the kinks, and also the lengthy nature of the season on our side.
One of my favorite aspects of baseball is the fact that the season is 162 games long. This translates into continual opportunity to watch games. But more than that, baseball signifies a joyous time of year. The weather is getting better and winter depression turns into summer compassion. Baseball’s leisure harmoniously syncs with the calendar season, and for that reason it turns a tide in the ocean of sports. Let’s just hope a wave washes up a bottle full of closing pitcher talent on the shore of the Giant’s dugout.
P.s. You thought you’d get outta here without some shoe talk? Think again! Even baseball has had an impact on the sneaker world to date (mostly because of Jordan’s funky decision to drop the ball and pick up the bat). My favorite moment of their intermingling is a special iteration of the Air Jordan 1 made to commemorate Derek Jeter, released when he retired. Pictured below, it features a classic baseball pinstripe along with subtle details commemorating the great including his logo on the tongue and “RE2PECT” scattered throughout.
